


Memorize

by wordsliketeeth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Banter, Best Friends, Clothed Sex, Confessions, Dark Past, F/M, Frottage, Grinding, Jealousy, Lap Sitting, Nipple Play, Obsessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: "Himuro wants to sink his teeth into your heart and drown you in the deep waters of his obsession. He wants to dig his claws into your skin and tear you apart just so he can put you back together again." Himuro's jealousy grows as he watches you get close to his best friend. He decides it's time to tell you just how he feels.





	Memorize

Himuro is watching you from across the room, his eyes pinned on you like a steel-tipped dart on a dartboard. It's become a hobby of sorts, now that you're both older and he doesn't feel that his reasons for wanting to memorize every part of you are unorthodox.

He watches your mouth open as a peal of happy laughter spills past your lips. Normally he would relish the sound but today he feels like he's looking at you through comatose eyes because it's not meant for him. You sound like a seraph and look like an angel but Himuro fears that he's been existing in the shadows for too long to live in the light of your halo.

You turn your head away from Kagami, whose face is as red as the rose petals strewn across the balcony's concrete floor, and look Himuro straight in the eye. He smiles at you and he can feel the chill in his body subside when you return the gesture. He's changing his skin again, just for you, and he knows by this that you're slowly taking him apart but he doesn't entirely mind.

He's an animal in the cage you built, restless and unbridled, and he's not wholly convinced that you're aware of which side of the glass you're standing on. It's plain to see that you're content and for as much as Himuro likes the way jubilation looks on you, he wants to sink his teeth into your heart and drown you in the deep waters of his obsession. He wants to dig his claws into your skin and tear you apart just so he can put you back together again. His thoughts are as black as the stains on his soul and he can't imagine that you'd be looking at him the way you are now if you knew even half of what goes on inside his mind—not to mention the things that he's _done_.

Kagami says something he can't quite hear but it calls for your attention and Himuro can feel jealousy lance through his heart when you give it to him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, oblivious to the way his nails are cutting into his palms. There's tension pulling at every muscle in his body and static in his veins. His pulse is slow and he's hearing the newly familiar buzz of dissonance in his ears again. And even behind the dark curtain of his eyelids, he can see you as clearly as the spots of light mottling his vision, or lack thereof.

He's spent so long trying to hide his demons from you and Kagami both, two of his best friends, long-lasting and deep with roots entwined. Your history spans deeper than the various scars that cover the whole length of his body, contrasting cicatrices of a sinister past. He knows that Kagami's aware of his involvement with a certain group of people he'd rather not name, but he has yet to taint the image you've painted him in, still vibrant and wet. As it goes, some things are better left unsaid.

Still and all, Himuro has reason to believe that you aren't blind to each and every one of his wrongdoings and the fact that you've remained unchanged after all this time makes him want you so much more. It's a relatively new revelation, a childish crush turned plagued obsession. He can't recall exactly when it happened or how he realized his heartstrings pulled a little tighter when in your company, only that the thought of you getting comfortable with Kagami makes his blood run cold.

Kagami bends down in front of Himuro, the silver chain around his neck catching bright in the light. “Hey, I asked you a question,” he says, brow furrowed in a way that underscores the look of concern on his face.

“Sorry?” Himuro answers, shaking himself free from the tangled webs of his thoughts.

“Do you need anything from the store? I have to go pick up a few things for dinner.” Kagami rights himself and visibly winces as he straightens his spine. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and groans.

“That one-on-one with Aomine yesterday really took a toll on you, didn't it?” Himuro needles, the soft of his mouth lifting into a crooked smirk.

“I'm fine,” Kagami scowls. “Now do you need anything or not? I'm not gonna ask again.”

Himuro exhales a long sigh and presses his elbows in against his knees. “I could really go for a pack of–”

“You're trying to quit,” Kagami interjects, needlessly shaking his head to emphasize his point. He walks over to the door of his apartment and slips on a pair of timeworn sneakers. “I'll be back in a bit. If either of you thinks of anything you need while I'm out, let me know.” Kagami looks pointedly at Himuro. “_Before_ I'm on my way home,” he warns.

Himuro steals a glimpse at you and catches you biting back laughter, which he fails to do. “It was one time. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“One time my ass,” Kagami counters, his hand on the doorknob. “I have much better things to hold against you, Bro. Still, facts are facts and you've never had good timing.” He opens the door and disappears out into the hall, laughter still on his breath.

Himuro shakes his head and runs his hands over his thighs as he tugs his spine into proper alignment. “I happen to have amazing timing,” he mutters to the room, defensive but teasing.

You take the bait and Himuro has to duck his head to hide the smile that overtakes the shape of his mouth.

“You do for most things but for some reason, you're terrible when it comes toTaiga. You're late for _everything_.” You tuck your legs beneath you and rest your shoulder against the couch. “Sometimes I think you do it on purpose.”

Himuro lifts his head and attempts to shake the hair covering his left eye out of his face to no avail. “I don't _mean_ to. It just seems like trouble finds me every time I'm supposed to meet up with him. I don't know what that is, it's been that way since we were kids.”

“Trouble finds you, huh?” You arch an eyebrow and flash Himuro a cynical smile. “I can honestly say, with firsthand experience, that's not always the case.”

“You think I go looking for trouble?” Himuro asks you, pulling himself into standing. “Why would I do something like that?”

“You tell me,” you answer, lifting your shoulders in the barest hint of a shrug. “I'm not the one with brass knuckles tucked away in my back pocket and a band of hooligans on speed dial.”

Himuro strides over to where you're sitting and cages you between his arms, his palms flat against the back of the couch. “Are you trying to suggest that I'm a delinquent?”

“Not at all.” You tilt your chin up and rest your head back against the couch. “I'm _telling_ you that you're a delinquent.”

The dig of Himuro's mouth cracks into a smile as he lowers his face within inches of your own. “If that's true, then admitting that watching you flirt with Kagami drives me insane should be the least of my concerns.” It's plain to see in the draw of your expression that you're trying to parse the offhand confession. “If you have any idea of the things I've done, this should be nothing, right? So why do you look so surprised?”

“I'm not surprised,” you trail off, obviously rethinking what you've just said before continuing. “I just don't see how you think that I'm flirting with Kagami when we're just friends. I'm being _friendly_ with him, not flirty.”

Himuro slowly drags his gaze down your body and back up again. “So you don't have feelings for him?”

“No,” you answer immediately, chasing the dismissal with a huff of laughter.

“What about me?” Himuro asks, his lips so close to your own that he can taste the candy on your breath. “How do you feel about me?”

He notes the shift in your eyes and hears your throat work on a hard swallow as an answer comes to fruition on your tongue. “I don't know. Where is this coming from?” is your response but Himuro can pluck apart the strings of apprehension on your lips. He lowers a hand to the space above your heart and grins. He looks like an animal on the prowl, a wolf tearing through the stitches of sheep's clothing.

“Your heart is racing,” he remarks, a dangerous look swimming in the cool waters of his gaze. “Is that because you're afraid to answer me or because you're hoping for a kiss?”

“What gives you that idea?” Nervous laughter frames your lips and Himuro can see that you're struggling to hold his unrelenting stare.

“You're dodging my questions, for one. For two,” –Himuro slides his hand up your chest and over the jut of your collarbone to press his fingers against the base of your throat– “you have sex written all over your face.”

You open your mouth to contest his statement but Himuro steals the opportunity to crush your lips together in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth and tightens his hold on your throat. He steals your breath and catches your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard enough to ache but not to draw blood.

“Do you want me?” he asks, breathless and inoculate with desire.

You raise your arm to brace a hand against the nape of Himuro's neck but he catches your wrist in an effort to stall your intention. “Answer me, ____. I need to know.”

You blink slowly as if the heat and the haze clouding your vision is thick on your lashes. “Yes,” is your reply, whispered and shaky.

“Fuck,” Himuro breathes, relief lacing the curse and threading through lust.

Himuro steps back away from you but no sooner than he loosens the grip on your throat is he falling onto the cushions next to you. “Come here,” he commands, gesturing to his lap.

You quickly untangled your limbs and straddle his thighs, your bare knees fitting in against the scratch of denim hugging his skin. You brace your hands on the curves of his shoulders and hitch a breath when he grips your hips to pull you closer.

“I've wanted you for so fucking long.” Himuro fists the front of your shirt and yanks you forward, forcing you to balance your weight against his shoulders. He kisses you fiercely as he begins undoing the button and zip on his jeans, his knuckles glancing the apex of your thighs. His heart is hammering in his chest and his hands are trembling but he manages to open the front of his jeans enough to alleviate some of the pressure bearing down on his arousal. Your mouth falls slack for breath and when you draw back to look Himuro in the eye, the strand of saliva connecting your lips breaks between you.

“Are we really going to do this on Kagami's couch?” you manage, the excitement pulsing through you unmistakable by the vibration of your tone.

“I might break the law now and then but I'm not disrespectful,” Himuro scoffs, feigning offense. He returns his hand to your hip, the opposite already leaving the shape of his fingerprints on your skin. He readjusts his position and when you slide forward, the friction of your clothed sex against his own draws a shaky sigh out of the dark of his throat. He smooths moisture into his lips and bucks his hips, grinding his notable hardness against the heat pooling between your legs. The fabric of his boxers sticks to his skin and the knowledge that you're undoubtedly feeling the damp of his precome makes his heart skip into overdrive.

“You're not doing a very good job of convincing me otherwise,” you tell him, gasps of pleasure cutting into your speech like the tiny cracks of light filtering through the room.

“I have my limits,” Himuro says simply. “I won't openly fuck you on his couch, but I will get off on his couch. Now take off your shirt so I can get a nice look at your beautiful tits.”

“So demanding,” you tease, already reaching for the hem of your shirt to heed his command. You tug the cotton material over your head and let it fall to the floor with little care for where it lands. Himuro moans a sound that reverberates all the way down to his chest as he bows his head to press his face in against the soft cushion of your breasts.

“I can't help myself. You're so fucking gorgeous. I want to memorize every inch of you.” Himuro slides his cheek over your bra to take a concealed nipple into his mouth. He wets the fabric with his tongue and scrapes his teeth over the turgid peak. Your hips twitch involuntarily and Himuro moans as you grind down against his swollen cock. The vibration of sound tugs a whimper past your lips and holds him in his toils.

Himuro falls back against the support of the couch and stares at you with rapt attention. The sharpness of his gaze narrows to a focus that turns your complexion a shade darker, heat visible in the creeping blush that spreads across your clavicle and down your chest.

“Don't think so much. Just keep riding me and focus on how good it feels.” Himuro reaches out to cup your left breast in his hand, his thumb sweeping across a sensitive nub. He tugs at the responsive tissue and savors the broken whine that bleeds through you like a salacious canticle. He fits his free hand in sideways between your thighs and tugs your shorts away from your center, removing a single layer of obstruction from the titillating spark of hard resistance.

With each roll of your hips, Himuro can feel the evidence of your arousal growing. The friction of damp cloth against bare skin coupled with the urgency of your movements is more than enough to push him over the edge unaided but it's made worse by the months he's spent fantasizing about you.

“Fuck, baby. I'm already so close,” Himuro tells you, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with heat. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“You sure about that?” you rasp, canting your hips roughly. You duck your head and fit your lips against the shape of Himuro's own, a shape you're already committing to memory. You kiss him desperately, open and hot and wet.

Himuro falls headfirst over the proverbial edge some call heaven and plummets straight into the blazing fires of hell. There's a fever in his heart, breaking to a fine sheen of sweat on his skin. He emits an incoherent string of profanity and slides his fingers into your hair as he reaches the pinnacle of his undoing. He bites the bottom line of your mouth and bucks his hips, the blood rushing to the head of his cock indicative of his release.

Himuro's mouth slackens and his chest rises and falls with the rapid rate of his breathing. He's quivering like a boy with the morphine shakes and he swears that he's fighting the onslaught of a hurricane. There's lightning in his fingertips and you jump when he touches you. He can feel the evidence of his capitulation spilling out across his skin and wetting the intersecting lines of his boxers. His lungs burn and there's a violent storm rushing through his veins, the root of his heart's decay.

Himuro looks up at you through bleary eyes and watches your countenance melt into an expression of bliss as you ride out the waves of pleasure. You twist your hips and grind down against him as hard as you're physically able, desperate to imbibe every grain of euphoria you can touch. Your breath comes hard and your fingers are digging into the slow shift of Himuro's shoulders, fingernails cutting half-moons into his skin. He watches you closely, observes every little detail of your collapse, and when he feels like it's safe, he reaches out to call you back to reality.

You slump against his body and Himuro takes pleasure in the way you're burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin and he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat against his chest. He delights in the aftermath and the proximity of your bodies, anticipation crawling through his veins for the future promise of heightened closeness.

After a stretch of silence blankets the room, Himuro finally breaks the absence of sound with the low drag of his voice. “Does this mean that you're accepting of my unlawful past?”

You huff a breath of laughter against his neck and slowly slide back in his lap to meet his eye. “Just because we had some fun together doesn't mean that I'm okay with you being a criminal.”

Himuro pretends to ponder your statement as he drags his hands up to the line of your waist. “Okay...but will it stop you from dating me?”

You slide your fingers through his fringe and push back his hair, revealing a nasty scar that only a select few know about. “Why don't you think about changing your ways instead of trying to skate around the subject? Then maybe I'll think about it.”

Himuro's mouth bends on a smile and he lifts his legs to tip you forward. “You have no idea how much I have changed, do you? I used to be so much worse. Can't you just agree now and I'll work on bettering myself as things progress?”

You smile down at him and roll your eyes. “Fine, but I'm holding you to that. The first time you get into trouble is the last time I'm putting out,” you joke.

Himuro shifts purposefully and you topple over onto the couch. He's honed his reflexes in more ways than one, and within seconds, he's blanketing your body with his own. “You have to give me a little leeway. I can't change overnight. Besides,” –Himuro ducks his head and slides his tongue over the pulse thrumming beneath the smooth column of your throat– “excluding the fact that I don't think you _really_ mind my bad habits, that would hurt you just as much as it would hurt me.”

You sink into the couch cushions and wrap your arms around Himuro's neck. “What gave you that impression?” you ask, lifting your head just enough to nip at the soft edge of his earlobe.

Himuro shivers at the contact and drags the damp edges of his teeth over your jugular vein. “Knowing what I do didn't stop you from being with me today—in fact, I think you like that I'm dangerous. But if you need me to further prove my point, let's take this conversation back to my place.”

“You really respect his belongings, don't you?” you ask him, eyes following his frame as he slips off the couch and into standing.

Himuro's hands bare the faintest remains of the tremor expiring beneath his skin, his fingers still shaking as he works the button on his jeans back into place. “It's not that. I just need to wash all of this come off my skin and his shower isn't big enough for two.”

Himuro watches your face slip into an expression of understanding before he turns on his heel and makes his way over to the door. “Are you coming?”

“Apparently,” you mumble, sliding off the couch to retrieve your neglected shirt. You struggle to fit the material over your head, your composure still hanging in the balance after the gravity of your orgasm. You carefully put one foot in front of the other and make your way over to where Himuro's standing. “Once wasn't enough, hmm?”

“Ohh babydoll,” Himuro drawls as he holds the door open for you. “All these years later, there's still so much you don't know about me. I guess it's a good thing that I'm a hands-on kind of guy.”

The door clicks shut behind them and Himuro doesn't bother locking it, knowing that there's half a chance that Kagami's forgotten his key again. And the last thing he wants is a phone call from his best friend when he's in the middle of procuring what he's always wanted.

Plus, he's working on becoming a better person and it's just good manners, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
